


Pain in my heart for your dying wish

by iamfine1212



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Character Death, Choking, Drowning, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Hannibal's canon murder kink-freeform, I am so sorry, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Murder, Post-Canon, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Sad Ending, This is My Design, being gay and in love, but also happy-freeform, mischa feels, my first hannibal fic, no beta read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:22:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29612145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamfine1212/pseuds/iamfine1212
Summary: When Will yeeted them of the cliff, Hannibal was content to die in Will's arms. Sadly for him he didn't.This is my take on Hannibal's last moments.
Relationships: Hannibal Lecter & Mischa Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	Pain in my heart for your dying wish

**Author's Note:**

> Title form MCR song- You Know What They Do to Guys Like Us in Prison.  
> English is not my first language and I have no beta so if you spot any mistakes please point them up and I'll fix them:)

It's worse when you fall obviously. He didn't really expect just how much worse it would feel though. Well, he never really fell before. He did jump quite a bit- but he'd never fell. That until now of course. To be honest, he didn't really fall now either, he was _pushed_.

The water, who seem earlier to be just beneath them, if far, are now as well be in another universe, unattainable, magical and far far away. He felt as if he left his stomach up on the cliff and his head was fogy. And Will Graham was in his arms. The moment before they hit the dark unattainable water might have been brief in reality, but Hannibal felt an eternity pasting, leaving them frozen in time. He put a protective hand on Will's neck just at the right time, just before the blackness took over.

Hannibal, as a rule, was not afraid. He never truly felt dread creeping in his bones, never felt the overwhelming paralyzing fear his clients so often talked about. The fear that was depicted in theater and at the opera remains in the realm of art and animals like lesser beings. The ice in his troth that wouldn't let him breathe and his heart beat was not something he ever experienced. That until the moment he realized Will wasn’t in his arms.

He woke up, his body aching, water devouring him and with no Will to be found. He was about to die, he knew that match. If Hannibal was on his right mind at this moment, he would recognize that there is nothing to be done, he has a few more minutes and the smart thing to do is to welcome the darkness with his usual curiosity. But Hannibal is definitely not on his right mind. His all existent was consumed by the need to find Will. He can't be far.

In this moment Hannibal realized he can't breathe. Right. He was underwater. That startled him enough to shake from his catatonic state and he began to push himself upward. His body protested but the pain was secondary to the argent all consuming need for Will. The first breath of air made him dizzy, but Hannibal would not let mundane obstacles like his dying body to deter him.

He did not have any plan for what he would do when he succeeded, he just knew he had to see Will. Now. Struggling to stay above water, he couldn't see Will anywhere near, the unfamiliar panic who took over him intensified and threatened to kill him before his severe wounds. Hannibal opened his mouth in intention to call Will's name but a tide hit him before he managed to properly make a noise.

While struggling to push himself up again another rear feeling hit him - despair. Despair was not unfamiliar to Hannibal. The unproductive emotion brought up extremely unpleasant memories to Hannibal's mind. Just once before the desperation threatened to sank him, to squeeze his aching heart until it's inevitable explosion. Will has successfully managed to get rid of everything he held dear and made Hannibal's head, or more rightly put, Hannibal's entire identity and sense of self, his own. Dam this cunning stupid ruthless beautiful boy. Hannibal could feel his grip on life loosen, but if he dies like this, it would be while searching Will if not in his arms.

Hannibal was a man of his word but it didn't bother him even a bit that in his last moments he's breaking one of the first promises he had to himself- when I'll die, he used to tell himself, it would be with dignity, in an epic way even if I could manage. His death would have been dignified and beautiful like he always intended had he died when they hit the ocean. But he did not die then, and his death would come while hysterically looking for the men who were his reckoning. Spitting salty water and probably crying he couldn't stop the cracking voice who had to be his own from calling for Will.

Suddenly someone grabbed his left arm and turned him around with way too much force then needed in Hannibal's miserable bodily state. The fog in Hannibal mind thickhead by the sudden movement and the fingers that dug deep in his skin. Familiar sharp blue eyes pierced him through the fog and despite his pain and wrench he felt a harsh jolt of relief and excitement. _Will is here_. Everything is in the right place. Or in the extremely wrong place it didn't really matter at this point.

He heard his own name, almost swallowed by the waves and wind. ** _Will_.** he thought to himself delirious, half aware of the words that kept bumbling from Will's mouth but unable to process them in a way that made any sense. Hannibal watched helplessly at Will’s desperate attempt of communicating with him and everything made sense to him. _Finally_. Will promised him reckoning. Hannibal promised Will his becoming. It was only fitting, only appropriate, that in their conjoined being, in their blur, it will all be one of the same. Will, who gave up any attempt of talking to Hannibal, wrapped his arms around his aching body and started swimming, dragging his uncooperative sore body with him.

**_Will_** , Hannibal tried to get the men's attention. He did not understand why Will won't acknowledge his calling, his mind returning for a second to the treasured haunted years he called Will’s name in the unusually hollow rooms of his mind palace with no response. Oh right, he can actually use his mouth to talk to Will now. “Will” he said, indifferent to the whipping broken voice that was coming out of him.

The last time he was so out of control he was just a boy. “Everything is going to be fine Hannibal” Hannibal felt warm hearing Will saying his name. “Yes it will be” Hannibal assured him “now please stop swimming”. “We need medical attention” Hannibal heard the despair in Will's voice, his dear Will, he knows it is a lost cause, for Hannibal at least. After all, this was his design.

“Will” his voice staider now _“please”_. Will stopped and turned to face him, his eyes were wide and filled with emotions Hannibal did not recognize. Hannibal needed him to understand but the only thing he could manage attiring is the repeated plead "please Will, _please_ ". Will's name rolling of his thong like a prayer. Will reached to him, cradling his face like Hannibal did to him so many times in their shared history. Hannibal was quiet now but in his heart he kept praying to his god while Will lowered his hand wiping salt water, blood and tears from his cheek. He needed Will now more than ever and he knows Will knows that too when he places his hands on Hannibal's neck. His beautiful, gloating and only god starts pushing on his trachea.

He used to think a lot about his last words, conflicted between some cannibalism puns or an ominous metaphor, heavy with religious subtext. _“I love you, Will”_ his narrowing vision catching Will's cold eyes gazing back at him. The movement of Will's mouth suggested an answering of some sort but all Hannibal could hear is his own heartbeat and his blood gushing in his ears. While consciousness slipping away and life forcefully squeezed from him, the only coherent thought that crossed his mind was "Misha would adore him".

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading:)


End file.
